The moment when my protector took over
I can remember the exact moment in my life when things changed. It was Mr. Hansen’s fifth grade reading class. I was in the third row back, about the right side of the of the room.
I was reading a passage and stumbled on a word. I mispronounced it.
He laughed at my mistake.
Then the class broke out laughing.
In that exact moment, I did not have the emotional regulation to contain the feelings of embarrassment. But it goes beyond embarrassment.
It was shame. Shame of who I was. Shame that English wasn’t my primary language. Shame that parents couldn’t equip me for this world.
Up to that point, I was an 11 year old child, born of refugees who experienced unnamable trauma to bring me to this country. I carried that trauma unknowingly.
When Mr. Hansen laughed, an authority figure in my life forever broke my trust in the system.
He triggered deep intergenerational traumas carried to me. For anyone else, it should’ve been just a bit of embarrassment, then life goes on.
For me, it was a life or death situation. I can only remember up to that moment when the laughing happened, and then silence. I have no more memories or feelings beyond that exact moment.
